The Wild One
by PinkCottonCandyCane
Summary: If I was a sinner before, does this make me a sage? Full Summary Inside. EnvyxOc. Rated M for Content/Situations/Violence.


**I've got faith in this story, lol. R&R, please leave a comment.**  
**Summary: I am Rogue, the ninth Homunculus created by Father. I know it's wrong, but I can't help but wonder what it'd be like to have friends, like the humans do. I know I'm not the only Homunculus that feels this way. We all have that tiny thread of curiosity inside of us. That's the flaw of the Homunculi. Each of us are curious, and there's not a damn thing Father can do about it.**  
**Disclaimer: No, I don't own FMA. :'(**

* * *

_A blonde-haired man in a white robe raised his hands, grinning in success."Welcome, Rogue!"_

_No. Rogue wasn't her name, was it?_

_Rogue._

_Her name must have been Rogue._

_It seemed so familiar and welcoming._

* * *

Once I'm outside, the fresh, night air wakes me up. It's not muggy and filtered like the air just below the earth's surface. I tug on my gloves out of habit, causing my wrists to itch due to the constant rubbing of fabric against skin. A few people are milling around the entrance to the Command Center. They're all dressed in pristine military uniforms, guns slung over their shoulders by thick, durable straps. I've never held a gun. I bet they're heavy, though.

I've been told I'd be good at sniping. I can practically imagine it; the weight of a gun in my hand, the cold metal of the trigger molding into my fingertip, the impact of a bullet leaving it's barrel, the air crackling from the force.

I manage to slip into the strip hedges that runs around the Command Center without a sound. I suppose being so small has it's advantages. Although the hedges are freshly pruned, I go entirely unnoticed. I've never been caught. Even if I were to loose my foothold in the loose soil and make a short-lived noise, the odds of a soldier actually shooting at me are slim at best. They may so much as care to stop their motions and stare in my direction, but they'll turn a blind eye in the end. They always do.

Taking the elevator is not an option for me. I'd stick out like a sore thumb, or worse, I'd look like a tourist moping around the country's vast, reigning military base that puts all others to shame. Truth be told, I actually perfer cutting through the lawn. I love the thrill of it. The dark of night, the soldiers standing guard who are ready to fire at will, the air of freedom that surrounds me.

Even when I, without Rogue, ironically, walk before them, I can feel waves of envy rolling off of them and targeting me. I can't help what I am, I can't change what I am. As badly as I want to, I can't do so.

I'm the Fuhrer's top assassin. The girl who can throw blades accurately and hit her target each time, the one that tumbles through the air without hesitation and lands swiftly on her feet like an acrobat from an amazing circus. I learned from the best... In the beggining, I'd never had any intention to become an assassin, much less the best the Amestrian State Military had to offer. It just seemed to unfold that way, like a folded peice of paper with writing on the inside that can't be read until all of the folds are opened.

Now that I look back on it, I can't help but agree with my father's judgement on my behalf. An assassin, defined by wits, skill, and accuracy. If you take an assassin and mix their skills with that of a girl that can take a step into antoher's mindset, of course you'd have a natural-born killer. It scares me, how graceful I've become when completing my 'tasks.'

Father couldn't expect anything less from his 'darling little princess.' Maybe that's why Lust despised me, because I've taken the place of 'daddy's girl.' She could have gotten that spot back anytime she wanted. I'm not happy with my position, but I dare not say so.

My mind snaps back to reality and I tumble out of the hedges, sprinting across the yard and flipping into the air to avoid the pavement that would surely echo my footsteps. My back brushes against the limestone wall of the immense Command Center, barely dusting it with my backside. I inhale deeply. These are the few moments I get to enjoy the outside world, the exterior of my shell.

The second I enter through the panel-like door that leads into the lair below, I'll become a hellion again. I'll become the puppet I've always been, Father pulling on my strings to make me move however he pleases because I'm inferior.

One of the many drawbacks of being a Homunculus is having so much power, so much superiority, yet we have to take orders from a higher being we call our Father. Sure, humans may be 'inferior' to 'The Truth,' but they merely believe in him. They don't take orders from him, unless their rights and wrongs are orders, which I'm sure they're not. I've never been confirmed on any of my questions about the humans, just the basics.

I am a Homunculus. They are humans. I am superior.

I guess everyone gets that thought carved into their skulls after a while, maybe that's why Pride is so obedient and arrogant? He's had it carved into his mindset longer than any of us. Lust is obedient, and she's certainly arrogant when it comes to comparing her looks to that of any other individual. I don't know much about Greed, but he was a 'failure' in everyone's eyes; I wouldn't know, I've never met him and no one mentions him much. Envy is undoubtedly arrogant and he's definitely obedient when it comes to following Father's orders, it's listening to others where he has trouble...

I shake my head. I'm getting off topic again.

I've always been rebelious one who carries out their missions however they please. But Father allows me to do so. I can envision what another person is going to do, how they'll react to something, why they're doing it. Father calls it the 'Art of Telepathy.' It has some downsides, despite the convenience. I may be able to know what they're going to do, but there is never a guarantee that I'll be capable of doing a damn thing about it.

I reach over and touch the panel, pressing down on it lightly until I hear the faintest crackle of fresh air meeting muggy atmosphere. Bracing myself, I swing myself into the small hole the panel hides and emerge from a similiar panel in one of the many halls of our lair, our home.

My heart is already aching. I didn't want to bid the outside world farewell just yet.

* * *

Every once in a while, I wish I could predict my sibling's actions. But I can't. Unless it's extremely important, they don't spark any visions within me.

For example, I hadn't expected for Pride to be waiting for me at the bottom of the panel's slope. I hadn't expected for him to start lashing out at me for not arriving sooner, claiming that I was oggling at my surroundings again.

I was merely wasting the time I could have spent listening to your arrogant ass chew me out.

With a final snap, he sent me off to my living quarters and said for me to wait until Wrath and Gluttony returned from their mission. I hate taking orders from Pride, I suspect we all do. He's so bossy and he's lying to himself about 'not having anger.' Saying Pride doesn't have anger is like saying Wrath would rather go to a jubilant galla than take down a couple of pestering State Alchemists.

Perhaps I'm overreacting; I'm perfectly fine with awaiting Wrath's return, I do that all the time. But waiting for Gluttony of all people is just insulting.

The quilted fabric beneath me is soft to the touch, causing my tensed muscles to relax.

I guess everyone has their own opinions, their own way of doing things. The worst part of being a Homunculus is not having a say in what happens to you. You're just coming along for the ride. Or, in my case, the wild feeling of euphoria that it brings me. Okay, maybe not euphoria, but something along the lines of mind-shattering? No. Just forget that entirely.

I lazily pull my body up from the soft, comfortable quilt. The only thing Envy and I agree on is the fact that we should be able to act however we please without being critizied for it. If Pride had seen me pull my body up with such little effort, he would have started yelling at me as though I'd ruined the entire plan.

I can imagine it now...

"What are you?! Sloth?! YOU are ROGUE. R-O-G-U-E. Now, lay back down and get up like you're the embodiment of ROGUE!"

My imagination has the tendency to be anticlimactic. I've accustomed to it over the years.

Glancing from left to right, my eyes land upon the large mirror in the corner of the room, my image staring back at me with an equal look of boredom. I regard myself with a quizzical scowl, letting my eyes scan up and down my reflection.

Thick, waist-length raven hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, my bangs left untouched and parted to the side. The pale flesh that covers my body is marked by a red-tinted tattoo, my Ouroboros, of a serpent eating it's tail, placed on the left side of my collar bone, peeking out from beneath my brownish-red tank top that I never have to change out of, another factor that connects me to my kin. Red nodes run up my arms, starting at the upside of my hand and working their way up until they go under my arms, over the first bone of my ribcage, and to the center of my back, forming another dot, and going down the other arm to my opposite hand. My outfit, aside from my thin-strapped tank-top, consists of a pair of reddish-brown jeans tucked into matching combat boots.

That's another thing; when you're a Homunculus, you're born with the clothes you'll wear for the rest of your existence, unless you're specially made (Pride) or have a different genetic makeup (Wrath). I'm rather pleased with my attire though, at least when compared to Lust's get-up...

The sudden banging on the door makes me flinch. Like I said before, I choose not to see things that happen seconds into the future. I stand from the foot of the bed, making my way towards the door-

SLAM!

Envy never has been the patient type. He marches into my room uninvited, seizes hold of my wrist, and literally drags me out of the bedroom. He's seething. What's he pissed off about? More importantly, who caused him to be? I haven't seen him for two days, so it couldn't have been me. I jolt of pain races up my arm. Okay, way too tight of a grip. "Loosen... your... hold," I say between gritted teeth, trying to wrench my arm free.

Envy and I have always been on better terms than the other Homunculi. Is Envy actually mad at me? The thought makes me cringe back. No, Envy's the closest thing I have to a friend here. He's not mad at me. That's not a possibility.

"Damn it, Envy," I shriek, finally managing to pull my arm from his grasp. Before the feeling of triump can even sink in, I'm lifted off the ground as if I weigh no more than a puppy.

The fuck?

I can see the paved floor flying by as my cheek bounces against his shoulder. There's no way in hell Envy just...

"PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!"

He doesn't respond, he merely continues on his way. I begin to bang my fists against his backside, but it doesn't seem to bother him. I'm aware of the 'desperate times call for desperate measures' saying, but I don't feel like getting into a knock-down-drag-out fight with Envy, especially when he started out pissed to begin with. I'm fighting the urge to rake my claws down his exposed skin like a cat.

We walk for a few more minutes in utter silence. Of course I recognize the hallways, I've been exploring them for the larger portion of my life. We're heading in the direction of the lair. Father's room. I hope the shiver that races down my spine doesn't cross over into Envy.

I really, really don't want to see Father when I'm being carried by Envy, tossed over his shoulder and calmly carrying me along. "Envy, can you please put me down," I ask, lightening my voice a few volumes.

"No," I can practically feel that smirk in the air around us as he replies. "You're just going to hit me."

It's not until we reach Father's room when he puts me down on my feet; and he was right. I pull back my right arm, my hand clenching into a tight fist and send it forward, hitting him in the side of the face. Hard enough to break his jaw, not that it was broken ten seconds afterwards. I can practically feel my knuckles pulsing, but with a sudden spark of red, the tingling vanishes.

"Was it worth it," Envy says with his usual smirk, pushing open the large doors to Father's room.

"I think it was," I hiss, earning myself a glare from Envy. He doesn't seem so angry anymore.

I shut my trap and walk in behind Envy, hearing the doors squeal shut behind me. My violet eyes instantly lock onto Father. Eyes closed, sitting down on his 'throne of stone' with tubes connected to his body. I've always thought it'd hurt to have so many tubes connected to a person's skin, but Father makes it seem as though it's refreshing and soothing.

I highly doubt that it would seem refreshing to anyone else...

"Envy," Father speaks, his eyes sliding open. "Rogue." His acknowledgement makes me flinch and I glance at Envy. If he's expecting a reply, Envy will catch onto it before I do. He's been answering Father far longer than I have. "It would appear that Gluttony has been captured, during a battle with Scar." My eyes widen from his tone alone. He makes it seem so natural, as though his 'child' hasn't been taken away. "The Flame and Fullmetal Alchemist are holding him in a remote cabin in the woods, around twenty miles from the city's border. I need for you to retrieve Gluttony."

Simple enough. It's not going to be hard to take something from a bunch of unsuspecting alchemists.

"Without hurting the alchemists."

This mission just became impossible.

* * *

**Longest. First. Chapter. I've. Ever. Written. Lol. -_-.**


End file.
